Barely Breathing
by lionsss
Summary: Their friendship had been of fierce loyalty a hint of jealousy the need to hurt one another &protect them from anyone who would try,the inability to be apart & the promise to be toxic if together.Those werent things of a normal friendship- Quinn knew that
1. Chapter 1

Quinn had been reading for almost the entire night before her green eyes lifted from the pages and finally fell on the brunette, sleeping peacefully in the bed across the room. She let out a sigh, quietly closing the leaterbound cover of Romeo and Juliet. It had been her favorite book since she was a child. Her father had thought it was far too mature of a story for her but Quinn's intelligence far exceeded the stories that her classmates were reading and her mother always encouraged her exploration into older stories.

That was before Judy Fabray found more comfort in a vodka tonic than a Robert Frost poem, and before Russell stopped seeing Quinn's choices in reading material as the only troublesome thing about his entirely perfect little girl. Before she had fallen in love with Santana Lopez. A girl. Before she could confidently say that she was gay. Before he had banned them from seeing each other. Before the ache in Quinn's chest that never went away and the sleepless nights and the so many other perfect things that seemed to outweigh them. That was before all of this. Now here she was, in a cheap hotel, drinking instant decaf, burying her soul in a story that had once meant the world to her.

Now her world was there, on that bed, wrapped in hotel sheets, safe from the hateful gaze of Russell Fabray, locked away in a room with no one else. Quinn tossed the book angrily across the table. She couldn't help but feel a little cheated by the story she had once felt was an epic romance. Romeo and Juliet never had to struggle. Their lives got difficult, their families were disappointed in them, and they both just died. That was it; forever and eternal love with the simple flick of a blade. Quinn assumed that was what was supposed to be epic about them, that they gave their lives to be together forever. There was nothing epic about that.

Somehow now, in a hotel, miles from home, watching the only important person in her life sleeping for the first time in days, Romeo and Juliet seemed cowardly. They would never have to face the things that threatened to tear them apart. They would never have to challenge and stretch their love in ways they weren't sure they knew how to, they would never have to watch the person they love break and cry no matter how strong they tried to be. Quinn felt betrayed somehow by the story, and the blindness it has forced her into. Now she was far from blind. Santana made her see everything.

Gathering the small blanket around her icy arms, Quinn stood from the chair, and wandered to the bed, laying slowly in the creaky springs of the mattress, trying not to jar the girl beside her. She pulled herself closer to the other girl's body, letting her head sink into it's usual spot between Santana's neck and shoulder, before draping the blanket over both of them and wrapping her arm across her girlfriend's body. "I love you." She whispered. Gazing up at the other girl's closed eyelids. "We're stronger than all of them."


	2. Chapter 2

**Alright so I finally decided to write this. I had written that prologue forever ago and had no Idea what I wanted to do with a story to get it to that point. I decided to start with their relationship already forming, rather than have the story be about them falling for each other. The focus of it will have a lot more to do with their relationship struggles rather than the build up. Will probably have some more intense stuff especially where the Fabrays are concerned. For some reason my douchey Russell head canons always come out in things I write, so I don't expect this to be any different. The style of it is a little weird, and may change while I get the feel for the story but I do hope you enjoy :)**

The moment had played a million times before in Santana's head. It turned out differently depending on the dream, the day she had had, what Quinn was wearing in class that day. But not even when she had rehearsed how it would go in her sleep had she imagined how quickly her heart would be beating, frantically and loud enough against her chest that she was sure Quinn could hear it from across the table.

If this were anything else, Santana would have given herself an ass kicking for being this nervous. She was Santana Lopez. She could have anyone. She had had just about everyone the school had to offer as it was. But none of them had ever been Quinn. Maybe that was why she had had everyone in the first place. It was never a conquest, or a trophy cause. It had been Quinn she had wanted from the very beginning. Now she would have her or she would ruin it, but after three years of insults, fights, pretending & Santana had very few chances left. Taking a deep breath, she forced a smile across her face as best as she could before swallowing the lump in her throat that she was sure was bigger than the round, gold buttons on her abuela's Christmas dress. She folded her clammy, shaking hands together, in hopes that Quinn hadn't noticed, and lifted her eyes to meet hazel before speaking the words without any of the lines of preparation she had originally planned on. "I love you, Quinn. "

That was it. None of the well rehearsed presentation, or the slowly building up that Santana had figured she would need to even work up the courage to say the words, just "I love you, Quinn." They were just laid out, quite literally, on the table. The table that currently separated the two girls, that Santana's hands were folded neatly on top of and trying not to shake against the dark wood. She searched Quinn's face for some kind of an answer in the milliseconds of shock that weighted the pause between sentences. Her expression was still, but soft, as Quinn's usually was when she was in a situation she actually cared about and not trying to be head Cheerio, Quinn Fabray. That was probably a good sign. Too many times, Santana had pictured this conversation with Quinn's lips pressing into her stone cold Quinn, thin line, the inevitable cock of an eyebrow and a comment about knowing Santana had always wanted her. Not as if that wasn't the truth.

Quinn was in another world entirely. Her world was moving much faster than the milliseconds Santana was stuck in. Heart and mind raced against each other for an answer that would make sense, while still trying to get their grip on the words that had just come from the mouth of the girl across the table. Some people would say it takes a while for things like that to sink in. That certainly wasn't the case for Quinn. The words sunk in. Over and over and over as if Santana were repeating them. She continued to hear the phrase played like it was her father's religious gospel spewings. "I love you, Quinn. I love you, Quinn. I love- "

"Say something?"

Santana finally broke the small silence. Quinn was horrified that she had done so so quickly, without giving her a moment to think, while Santana was impressed with herself for being able to wait as long as she had staring at Quinn's blank expression. That same expression pulled into the smallest of smiles, green eyes peering up, half lidded, to fix gently on Santana's. "You are beautiful." Quinn said the words in barely a whisper. She couldn't think of an appropriate answer just yet, but there had to be something that could buy her an ounce of time in the little that she had. It wasn't a stretch of the imagination and the words were the truth. Both girls had been at each other's throats most of their lives, but they had also been friends most of their lives. Many other friendships were filled with giggles and boy talk, long phone calls, and slumber parties with popcorn and movies, and the divulging of secrets that never got out. For years Quinn and Santana's friendship had been one of a fierce loyalty, but a hint of jealousy, the need to hurt one another but protect them from anyone else who would try to, the recognition of the other's perfections, but the need to point out their flaws, the inability to be apart, and the promise to be toxic if together.

Those weren't exactly the things that would define a normal friendship and perhaps Quinn knew that. Perhaps that's why her hand lifted from toying with the frayed edges of a place mat and landed across the table over Santana's tightly clenched ones. Perhaps that was why she felt an unfamiliar lightness in her chest when she saw the small smile but look of confusion that crossed Santana's face at the compliment Quinn had slipped out in place of having to answer just yet. It was almost insane that she hadn't thought of it before. She was Quinn Fabray, currently ranking top of her class and yet it had never crossed her mind that the high tension that marred her friendship with Santana was a different thing entirely. It was, wasn't it? That was what all of this meant? The way it felt better than she expected to feel, Santana's hands shaking just slightly beneath hers and knowing she was stopping it with her own, and the way she suddenly seemed more anxious than usual, like the world was caught in a forest fire that she wasn't aware of, only aware of the need to figure out what everyone was screaming about.

It was about time she figured out what everyone was screaming about.

"I love you too, Santana."

The words were more even than Santana expected them to be. Hell, they weren't what Santana had expected them to be at all. But her hands were trapped under the warmth of Quinn's. She wondered for a moment how Quinn could always be so warm. It was a simple thought, distracting from the real one that her mind settled on just afterwards. She had said it back. The words that Santana was sure she could never even hear out loud spoken herself, she had just heard out loud spoken from Quinn.

Santana's brow furrowed for a second, dark brown eyes narrowing at the other girl across the table. "Sorry, what?"

Quinn suddenly felt uncomfortable, nervous, like she was doing everything wrong. Her hands moved quickly away from Santana's. "I don't know." She muttered, eyes fluttering less confidently down to the table top.

Santana couldn't get her mind to grasp what was happening. Quinn had just said it back, and like the walking disaster that she actually was, Santana had stumbled stupidly over a response and now Quinn was looking like...like that. Quinn was looking like something was wrong, like she was embarrassed or unsure, like the confidence behind the words she had said only seconds before wasn't there any more. There was a feeling in her chest. This was the one Santana recognized from all the time she had had this conversation in her head. It hurt. The feeling that she knew this would end badly from the start, that Quinn wouldn't and couldn't love her back. Quinn wasn't gay after all. Even if she was 'not about the pleasing Fabray' she still liked boys when it came down to it. And even sexuality aside, Santana had been awful to her. They were awful to each other. Never a day went by without an exchange of insults or a jealous stare, though must of the time Santana's were aimed at things that took her years to figure out. By the look on Quinn's face it was clear that the blonde's anger and tension were not for quite the same reasons.

"Forget it." Santana muttered, just a little more loudly than Quinn had.

Quinn raked her lip underneath her teeth, as she always did when words escaped her, or she was trying to find a way to say them.

It was a nervous twitch Santana recognized, one that only people who knew Quinn well would notice. Even on her most confident of days, Santana had seen her do it. Just a week before, Santana had made a crude comment about Quinn's weight in the hallway just to get to her. Quinn had originally said something about Santana being easy, and Santana never passed up an opportunity to settle the score. However, she knew when she said it she had gone past settling it. That same lip bite had appeared just for a moment, before Quinn pivoted on her white cheerleading shoe and turned down the hall. Those were the times Santana hated the way she and Quinn acted sometimes- the times when she saw that small flicker of being unsure cross Quinn's face, and knowing how much being unsure bothered her friend.

Those were times quite like now. And if Quinn were ever unsure, she was more unsure in that minute than she had been in at least a year. Santana had said she loved her, and seemed in such disbelief when Quinn said it back, that every doubt in the world swarmed her mind until even Quinn wasn't sure why she had said it.

Releasing her lip from between her teeth, Quinn looked back up at Santana. "What do you mean forget it? Forget what?" Her voice was emotional but still quiet. Not angry, or sad, though. Just... brewing with a feeling that was similar to trying to swim when you're too tired. Not drowning, but certainly struggling.

"Forget I said anything."

"Santana-"

"I said forget it, Quinn." Santana's tone got quickly cold and defensive. She shifted her weight, taking her clenched hands and using one to brush a lose strand of hair carelessly out of her face.

There was the front Quinn was used to seeing. The hardened girl who denied anything that resembled a feeling of any kind, and did so with ice daggers for words. For a minute it made her feel a little bit better, to fall back into ways that they were used to. But that was only for a minute, until she tried to speak again and felt her voice catch in her throat. "Forget that you told me you loved me? Or Forget that I said it back?"

"I don't know." Santana said again.

"Neither do I, Santana."

Santana slumped against the back of the chair, frustration taking over. She didn't even know why she was angry and annoyed all of a sudden. Why had she bothered even saying it, hoping Quinn would understand, only to ruin it all when her answer had been a hundred times what Santana had ever expected.

A thick tension hung in the air, and Santana's kitchen slipped into silence. Quinn's fingers went back to toying with the flowery patterned place mat, and Santana fixed her eyes on the window above the sink, clenching her jaw back in fourth in a manner that was characteristic to her father when he was thinking. It was rare, for the two girls that were always so loud and bold to have sunken into a silence. Both were swimming in thoughts they couldn't quite get a grip on. Both second guessing themselves, and the others' thoughts, and both questioning what had even happened in the five minutes they had been sitting there.

Self doubt has destroyed many things in it's existence. Countless people fall victim to not thinking they did something right, or that they can be worthy of something. It is the thing that eats away at the people no one expects it from. People like Quinn and Santana, two of the most popular girls at McKinley high, who had more things going for them then most. Each of them had their power because of self doubt, tormented each other for the same reason, and took care of each other for it too. It was doubting their own abilities and worth, that ruined the way Santana had wanted their conversation to go that night. It made sense, though, it ruined most of things either of them had.

Finally Santana spoke, breaking through the heavy silence with heavier feeling words. "You didn't have to say it back. That's not what I-"

"I wanted to." Quinn cut her off. "But you obviously didn't believe I could."

"No- that wasn't- I was just shocked, Quinn. I hadn't expected you to-"

"Care?"

"No, of course, I know you care. We've been friends for three years, Quinn."

"I meant... care that you..." Quinn paused, the words she was about to say feeling as if they were stuck on her tongue, "...love me."

"Do you?"

Quinn had never heard Santana's voice sound the way it did just then. There were a lot of firsts in general in this conversation, but the vulnerability that came with the at question, wasn't anything like the Santana Quinn knew. "I said it back, didn't I?" Quinn's lips twisted at the corner. She couldn't blame Santana for being surprised that she had. She was a bit surprised herself.

"So... what then?" Santana's eyes were fixed on Quinn's even more than before, praying the conversation didn't slip back into the cycle of self doubt it had a minute ago.

"I have no idea, Santana."

"Well, fuck, Fabray. You're supposed to be the one who plans shit, who knows what to do." The situation suddenly became a little lighter. Santana tossed her hand up as she spoke, the cocky look in her eyes came back, and Quinn found comfort in the familiarity as she herself chuckled, a little bit half heartedly at the whole situation.

Santana was right. She always had a plan. Since high school had started Quinn knew what she wanted and how to get it, down to every detail of how she should act and what she should do. "This was not in the plan, Santana." Quinn shook her head, a small hint of a joking still present in her tone.

"So... what then?"

"Can you stop saying that?"

"If you tell me what we're doing."

Quinn took a deep breath. There were so many things that made no sense, things that she would think about later, in her bed, while she was unable to sleep, and try to figure out. There were things she wouldn't be able to face tomorrow that weren't even crossing her mind right now. Things like her parents, Santana's family, school, and the Cheerios, celibacy club, her own insecurities, but right now, only one thought was present in her mind. It slipped out as seamlessly as her 'I love you too' had a few minutes before; "We wing it, I guess. We change the plan."

**Feedback is always appreciated. I would love to hear thoughts on what people would like to see considering I don't have any specific plans really. Also thoughts on POV and that stuff. If anything, if I were to write from just one character's POV it would be Quinn's. Let me know what you all think :)**

**Also this was based off of apost of mine on tumblr. My url is Fabray the post is **: /post/20633480646 **Feel free to follow me there as well if you're so inclined. I'll be posting on there and stuff when I'm updating and all that.**


	3. Chapter 3

The next week went by differently than any other Quinn or Santana had ever experienced. Some moments were long, slow—painfully slow. Others went by so quickly they didn't have time to catch their breath or footing.

The slowest moment for Quinn happened right after her conversation with Santana at her abuela's kitchen table. After deciding that they both felt mutually for each other, and that they wanted to see what it all meant, the two girls sat in an odd, uncomfortable silence for a long time. During which Quinn couldn't even think. Everything felt slower and heavy. Quinn could see what looked like the start of a smile on Santana's face, as if she were trying to hold it down. It made her feel bad that for some reason, if Santana were happy, she would feel like she had to bury it. Quinn didn't see Santana really happy often, and she made a mental note then to make sure that from now on, when Santana was happy, she was the happiest she could be.

"You're smiling." Quinn eventually pointed out, a bit more awkwardly than Quinn Fabray usually spoke.

"Damn, Fabray. You're quick." Santana teased. Her normal hostility was present in her tone. Quinn wasn't sure if it made her feel more at home or more off beat. What she did know, was that Santana was almost always hostile because she was being defensive. She didn't want Santana to be defensive around her. They had spent so much time that way in the past and after this conversation, it somehow felt like the normal tug of war between them had been lessened. Quinn tried to think of a way to change the tone, by making Santana feel more comfortable or maybe, a way to reassure them both that this was turning in to something in the minutes that they sat there.

"You know, Fabray isn't really endearing when you say it like that." She said lightly.

Santana didn't respond, only cocked her head to the side as if to say Quinn had spiked her interest. The hint of a smile that had been pulling at the edges of her lips formed into a crooked smirk instead.

"You could just say Quinn. It sounds more…" Quinn paused, unsure if the words were the ones she was looking for before saying them anyways "…girlfriendy."

There was the smile Quinn had been looking for. An actual look of happiness crossed Santana's face. It wasn't one she saw often. Neither of the girls were really ever truly happy, despite how much they wanted they to be.

"So this is a thing then?"

"I'd say so." Quinn answered with a small, matter of fact nod. "That's what you want, right? I mean…. That's what this was for?" The gnawing feeling of self doubt came back. Quinn wasn't sure how to do this. As a matter of fact, she was sure she was doing it wrong. Until about ten minutes before it hadn't mattered and suddenly it was so important that she do it right.

"I'd say so." Santana repeated back to her. "If we're going to be 'girlfriendy' I think I should go with something like hot stuff or—"

Quinn immediately cut her off with a snort of laughter. "You're joking. That sounds like a some sixty year old biker, bar crawler's version of endearing."

Santana just smirked again, shrugging her shoulders and standing up from the chair. "I'll order us something to eat."

Quinn couldn't help but laugh more, and shake her head. "Fine, but then I get to call you honey muffin."

The slowest moment for Santana happened that same night.

When she heard Quinn making small teasing jokes, offering up the term 'girlfriendy' because she thought that's what Santana would want, Santana realized that she had tossed her feelings at her friend… girlfriend… Quinn.. and then just left them there for Quinn to juggle. She didn't want Quinn being the one struggling to make her happy and comfortable. She had waited years of watching the blonde girl try at happiness with this boy and the other, to be the one doing that for Quinn. And so she had stood from the table, ordered them take out, and put a movie on. She filled the space with a few more cheesy names to go with "hot stuff" and didn't let herself make a normal Santana comment about how much food Quinn Fabray could eat if you left her to it. It wasn't Quinn's responsibility to lighten the mood. It was hers.

After a couple hours, Quinn went home. The girls hugged awkwardly by the door, Santana keeping Quinn's hand in hers just a little longer as Quinn pulled away. She was tempted to kiss her cheek, but didn't. Afraid to push anything to an uncomfortable level when they were just figuring it out. After years of being friends, she probably hadn't walked Quinn out since the first time she came over but for some reason, tonight, it felt like she had to. Santana wanted to do this right, now that she actually had a chance. She had seen so many others do it wrong, with her, with Quinn. Being friends before they were anything more, wouldn't keep her from showing her… girlfriend exactly how much she wanted her to be so. Santana never wanted to feel that doubtful feeling she had felt at the table only hours before.

But then Quinn left and the doubtful feeling crept back almost as quickly as it had finally slipped away. That night was the slowest moment Santana would have all week. It may have actually been the slowest moment she had ever experienced. Sleep evaded her for what seemed like days. She spent the night in her room, eyes wandering over the couple photos of her and Quinn around the room, some with the rest of the cheerios, others with some of the football players. Santana couldn't help but wonder what this would all mean; A part of her felt like she was taking the life that she knew and turning it completely upside down. She could only imagine what this would mean for them. Would they have to keep it a secret? What would Quinn's parents say? Her Abuela, everyone at school? Santana didn't have answers at all for the millions of questions she wasn't even prepared to think about.

Another part of her felt like she was finally standing it right side up. And with that realization came the fear that it could so quickly be knocked down again. Santana had never been good at standing up. Sure most people in school that she ran into on a daily basis would say the opposite, but she knew herself that all of it was an effort to prove something to everyone else. She had never been good at keeping things stable, or doing things right. She was Santana Lopez: head bitch, cheerios co-captain, and all around mess. There wasn't a part of her that believed that she would know how to do this the way she wanted to. Be Quinn's girlfriend the way she had always hoped to. So easily her world could change in a hundred, thousand ways in the days to come.

With a heavy sigh, after at least two hours of pacing, Santana lay back down on her bed. She hadn't even changed into her pajamas, or taken off her shoes. Her entire thought process was locked on what was going on, and she stared at the ceiling for the remainder of the night, not knowing whether to dread the day that would follow, or be excited for each one to come after.

The fastest moment for Quinn came two days later in school.

The first day after their talk had been a little bit awkward. Neither girl knew how to act. Did they act differently, or the same. They felt differently. Or at least Quinn did. Every action felt premeditated, and even walking down the hallways, in her uniform, with her head high felt different. Not bad different, or good different just… different. Neither acted much like a couple around anyone else- if a couple was what they were called now. The only change was the noticeable lack of hostility, and bashful, but happy looking smiles that were much less noticeable.

On that second day, Quinn and Santana both stood in the locker room after Cheerios practice. Both girls had showered and slipped out of their uniforms and into the types of clothes that no one ever saw them in besides each other on the nights after practice when they stayed late and planned choreography for hours until they both wanted to kill each other.

Quinn was wearing small red shorts and a white McKinley shirt. Her wet hair fell down her back and curled just at the small pieces around her face the way it always did when it was damp. Santana had on baggy black sweat pants, and a red cheerios tank top- both products of one of Sue Sylvester's wardrobe splurges. Her thick, dark hair was shinier with water, and pulled into a loose ponytail at the bottom of her head that lined down the center of her back and formed a small wet patch on a lower spot on her shirt.

Quinn had sat herself down on the bench and was tying her white shoes back on when she looked up and caught Santana, fixing her eyeliner in the mirror. Her eyes landed on the darker ones that were staring into themselves, and Santana moved and met Quinn's gaze in her reflection. A smile formed on her face before she turned around, pivoting on her toe and walking to the bench to sit next to Quinn. It was the first time they had been truly alone since that night in her kitchen. Quinn smiled as she sat down, tying her shoe and turning to face the girl next to her with a smile of her own. The smell of Santana wafted through the air as she did so. Body wash, something fruity. It was the same kind she had been using for as long as Quinn could remember. She smelled like red. Quinn wasn't sure how else to describe it. Red like passion and warmth, fire and anger, bold and true and—

Soft lips were pressed against her before Quinn knew what was going on. She felt Santana's fingers against the skin of her neck, weaving just slightly into the wet hair at the bottom of it. Quinn pressed her eyes shut. Either that or the world went dark, because she couldn't see or hear anything aside of that kiss. It wasn't their first kiss. They had kissed drunkenly or via a bad game of truth or dare or spin the bottle. Santana was always trying to put on a show for someone or another, and Quinn was no saint when it came to doing things to tease. But it was definitely their first kiss that felt like… that. It was the one Quinn would consider their first kiss any time it was ever brought up later, even if Santana would tease an argue that it was the drunk one freshmen year, after their first week of Cheerios when the seniors had got them to kiss, and afterwards, innocent Quinn had only been able to say that Santana tasted like strawberries. Santana just liked to remember that one because of the look on Quinn's face when it had happened.

It was nothing like the look on her face in the locker room now, however. This time, Quinn looked content, not worried or uncomfortable, as Santana finally pulled herself back. Quinn let out a small breath, her eyes fixing on the darker ones in front of her, lips pulling up into an open mouthed smile. She hadn't even noticed, but her hand was resting gently on the outside of Santana's thigh and she didn't move it. That kiss wasn't the fastest moment, however. The fastest moment came right after. Neither girl had noticed Kristen Coleman standing in the doorway to the locker room. Kristen was a sophomore. She was on the Cheerios, and one of the best at that. She had been hell bent, gunning for the captain spot since her first day on the team. Always a little icy, and always too top heavy for criticism, neither Quinn or Santana got along well with her, and both girls felt their stomachs drop to their feet when they heard the girl clear her throat from the locker room entrance.

Santana jumped protectively to her feet, and Quinn pressed her back against the locker behind her, staring wide eyed at the girl across the room.

"Romantic." Kristen snarked, mockingly. Her auburn colored high pony bounced with the cocky tilt of her head.

'Get lost, Coleman." Santana took a step forward. She crossed her arms over her chest and glared threateningly back at the younger girl.

Everything was happening quickly. The kiss, the interruption, the rapidfire fall that her heart took to her shoes and then back up to lodge itself in her throat leaving Quinn unable to say anything as the two girls in front of her continued with their back and forth baring of teeth. The locker room might as well have been spinning. Quinn wasn't even sure what either Kristen or Santana were saying. She wanted to move, wanted to say something, defend them even though she wasn't sure why. Was she supposed to defend them? Were they supposed to defend themselves? Part of Quinn wasn't entirely sure why it mattered, why they were hiding. But then she saw the grin that plastered Kristen's face. It was a dark smirk if Quinn had ever seen one.

"I'll see you girls tomorrow." Was all she said before leaving the locker room. And if they weren't sure if they had to hide it before, they were now. That was when all the questions that they both had been having in their heads hit Quinn like a hundred thousand bricks. The spiraling didn't stop without Kristen in the room any longer. Quinn wanted to panic, ask Santana what to do, what Kristen had said, maybe even stand and run from the locker room entirely and forget any of this … the last three days.. had happened. But still she was frozen, forever stuck still when things moved too quickly.

Santana spun around, the toe of her white running shoe kicking the nearest locker with a loud bang that startled the fast moving world in Quinn's head back to real time.

"What.." was the only word Quinn could stutter out. Santana stood, staring down at her, her expression was still angry but her eyes looked scared. "Do you think…."

"I don't know, Q." Santana's tone was firm and a little cold.

Quinn hated that look on Santana's face. It was stern and cold, but not the normal head bitch one that it usually was. It was a different kind of cold, like she was hurt. Quinn suddenly felt as if all of this were far too much for either of them. They weren't the kind of girls who hid out in locker rooms, and were afraid of sophomores. This wasn't how things were supposed to be, and it certainly wasn't the plan. Even if Quinn had promised Santana they would change the plan, feeling like this, seeing Santana look like that, it wasn't what Quinn had had in mind when she said that.

"I'm… sorry." Quinn didn't say anything else, only stood up from the bench and walked quickly out of the room.

Santana spun to stop her, her fingertips grazing Quinn's forearm only for a fraction of a second before she watched Quinn walk out of the same doorway Kristen just had.

And that was the fastest moment for Santana. The whole three days that she had finally had what she wanted, however awkward and uncertain. There and then gone much too quickly.


End file.
